Insanity's Love
by Guardian795
Summary: The story of Muro and Konoko, their loves, their lives, and how they found each other, before ever realizing it....and the love that they shared before they found the truth... [Rated for MuroKonoko pairing and adult themes]
1. Reminisce

**Insanity's Love**

-

By Guardian795

**Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do NOT own Oni, Bungie does. I, however, own any characters not from Oni. And Muro is my squeeze toy!**

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**Chapter 1: Reminisce**

Disappointment. It had been that way for a long time, he supposed. He had always been disappointed in life, always discouraged. He had no family, no friends, no loves, no one to be with him. Well, he had one man as a "friend" – he used to be a scrawny man with pure white skin…until they took him in for testing…

Here he was, standing out at the window blankly, his emerald eyes wandering over the land. Despite all of that disappointment, he also had to deal with the pain of it all, the pain of the truth.

Every day had been a struggle just to survive. As a child, he was beaten and tortured on a daily basis. "Training"…right…His "master" would watch him from behind a wall as the young boy bled and was broken, day in, day out. He would be doused in sweat, blood, and tears as pain overtook him and he blacked out. There was fire there too, just under the surface, burning at his skin and his blood and his insides. Pain.

Once reaching puberty, his life was not in as much danger – he had grown stronger from his daily beatings. But…feelings…had arisen in him. Needs, desires, but those were quickly quelled by his master. All it took was one long afternoon of pain and torture, then all of his desires were gone, shattered in cold blood.

But the rage had always been there, like the fire, just under the surface. As a boy, the rage was just a twisted sense of anger and loathing, until that afternoon. Then, everything changed.

He never let anyone defeat him after that afternoon. All of his opponents failed to break him, and if they were able to hurt him, they were dead moments later. A kick to the head was quickly followed by a swift backbreaker, or a neck snapping. Either way, no one lived. And then he decided to challenge the only one brave enough to stand firm against the boy's piercing eyes. His master.

A whole night had passed before that battle. A long, painful night filled with cuts, bruises, and blood. And by morning, he felt stronger. He felt healed. And he was ready.

The battle was long, tiring. His master knew every one of the boy's moves, and he knew none of the man that was thrashing him. But it didn't matter. He fought to the best of his abilities, until no fight was left in him. It was a terrible feeling, to be helpless. He lay against the wall, his blood and sweat pouring onto the floor beneath him. His master had walked up to him and knelt beside the teen's broken body, and whispered something he shouldn't have.

And something broke. He wasn't sure exactly what, but it was like a dam had broken inside of him. The fire was back, flooding through his body. The pain was gone, replaced by the rage. His power came rushing back to him. His fist collided with his master's jaw, and the man was flung back several yards. The teen stood, the fire now free from its prison, and attacked.

His subordinates told him later that he was like a demon, glowing red with fire. His powers were unimaginable, causing pain from a distance, throwing the man like a rag doll, ripping him apart. When the leader was finally dead – in pieces, really – they said that the glow ceased and the teen passed out, but he had no recollection of the event beyond those whispered words.

_I will make you mine_

The Syndicate had no choice but to accept him as their leader. He was certainly strong enough for it, but he was a young teenager. It was impossible, improbable that he was the leader of the second largest organization to date. But he was. He freed his old friend from his testing room, now a white skinned man in a tank suit, and declared all-out war on any who opposed them.

Now, he sat, in a new office (he had destroyed the old leader's one), looking out the window at his new territory. He pushed back his dark purple hair with a gloved hand and sighed. "Do I really need all of this…just for one simple thing?"

"Sir?"

He sighed inwardly. "Yes, what is it?" He turned around to find a Striker there, holding something under his arm. It looked like a folder.

"Sir, when cleaning out the old leader's office…I found this folder. It's…about your father," he said quietly.

Muro sat up quickly. "What?" he shouted. The Striker handed him the folder. It was thick, but not nearly so like others he had seen. And it was all on…paper. No disc, no small device.

"This is all there is. It's incomplete. Some of the research must be with his accomplice," the Striker continued as Muro pawed like an animal through the papers. The emerald eyes snapped back, capturing the Striker once more.

"Accomplice?"

"A…Doctor Kerr, who works for the TCTF at this time. He's practically Griffin's right hand man."

Muro thought about this, rolling the thoughts around in his head. Finally, he looked back at the Striker. "That will be all," he said softly. The Striker saluted and began to leave. "Wait!" Muro called after him. The Striker turned around.

"Yes, sir?"

"Thank you," Muro said. "This isn't much, but it's something. Thank you." The Striker looked surprised, but nodded and left.

Muro sat back down at the desk. He gazed over the new information like it was gold. "My family…my LIFE is here…So…why is something still missing?" he asked himself. He stood and went to the window again. He could easily see his own reflection. He was good looking, 18. His purple hair flopped over one eye when he looked down, but his eyes still held their piercing emerald that they did years before when he destroyed the old leader of the Syndicate.

All in all, he was handsome. He chuckled. He was probably a girl's dream. He was beautiful. And then it hit him, that sickness and the fire and the pain. **He **had found him beautiful too…and that is why he had punished Muro that fateful afternoon…punished him for wanting others. For wanting love.

He didn't want that kind of sick, twisted love. He wanted real, gentle love. But, he would probably never find the girl that would love him.. He was a strange specimen of a human. Gentle, but aggressive. Kind, yet defiant. He was a paradox, plain and simple. But…it wouldn't hurt to head out into the world, would it? Give it a shot?

He really couldn't do this, though. Leave the Syndicate, even for a day? It was impossible. He looked over to the other side of the room where his dark jacket and cap were. _I shouldn't do this…_

But he really wanted to.


	2. Chance Meeting

**Insanity's Love**

-

By Guardian795

**Author's Note: I don't own Oni, blah blah blah. You know the drill. Sorry for the looooong update. It's senior year, people, and college is just around the corner. I hope things will come quicker as I use my magic writing pen to escape reality! Anywho, enjoy this next chapter.**

**Remember! Rated Mature for themes, violence, and language!**

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**Chapter 2: Chance Meeting**

The phone blared in her ears, and she couldn't help but groan. "Unh…shut up…" she mumbled, pulling a pillow over her head. After a few more rings, the phone quieted, and she curled up. And then it rang again. "SHUT UP!" she yelled, throwing her pillow at the phone. It dropped to the ground, instantly turning on.

"_Konoko?__Konoko!"_ a voice called.

The purple haired woman lifted her head, looking down at the phone. "Ugh!" she sighed, grabbing it and getting out of bed. "Yeah, yeah, hold on," she muttered, taking it to the telescreen nearby. She connect the phone to a cord and brought up the image of a uniformed TCTF operative named Rak Turrell, the "stud" as he called himself. "Yeah?" she asked, aggravated that he would be calling her so early in the morning.

"_Konoko, Commander Griffin wants you down at the HQ immed…" _The light commanding voice became silent.

She looked at the screen. "What?"

He was grinning. "_Nice PJs, sleeping beauty."_ She followed his gaze downwards to her white tank top and tight white shorts. Her hair was in disarray, and there were a few nasty creases where her covers had gone into her skin. No, it had not been a pleasant night for her…but she hadn't had a pleasant night's sleep in years.

"Get to the point, Turrell," she growled.

"_Someone's touchy this morning…Anyway, Commander Griffin wants you here. Now."_

Konoko pushed back her hair with one hand. "Tell him that I'm not interested in doing paper work tonight. I've been at it all week. I'm so sick of him!" She glared up at the man on the screen. "Whatever he wants, I don't care. I'm not going to work," she said.

"…_I don't think he wants you for paper work, Konoko. I think he wants you in the firing range."_

There was a pause as the words sunk in, and Konoko's expression lightened. "Are…are you sure?"

The man nodded. "_Yeah, and Shinatama's going to be there too," _he said.

"I'm on my way!" Konoko said, cutting off the connection. She flicked on the electro-free lights, for electricity was expensive with the processors, and began to get changed. She threw off her clothes, not caring where they landed as she put on a pair of jeans and a nicer white tank top. She slung on a belt, socks, shoes, and ran to the bathroom to fix up her hair. It was going to be a nicer day. She ran out of the bathroom, grabbing her keys to her motorcycle and her gun. As she ran out the door, she stopped, her eyes fixing on the clock that blinked the time: **2:17 AM**.

"What -! I'm gonna kill him!" she yelled, hurrying out the door.

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If he believed in God, he would have been praying every moment to him. Every second that no one from the Syndicate found him, no matter how simple his disguise, was another minute he was thankful for. Muro wandered the streets, a black hoodie pulled up over his head (**AN: Hey! There's probably still hoodies at this time!**), his fists jammed in the pockets of his tan pants. He kept glancing around, half fearful that one of his minions would find him, but he had escaped thus far without anyone noticing. He passed an Atmospheric Processor plant, and no one seemed to recognize him. He chuckled, trying to calm himself down.

_Of course they don't know me…I'm just a stupid kid, wandering the streets, to them. No one knows who…or what…I am._

But that didn't seem to stop people from noticing that he was still a lone teenager wandering the streets. He felt two hands roughly grab him and shove him into a metal wall. He winced unintentionally, cursing the city's new laws of metallic buildings. Just a safety precaution, but damn, did it hurt. He was grabbed again by the shirt and shaken. Three guys, all wearing black, with misshapen and crude hair cuts, tattoos and earrings, were looking at him. The fourth, a burly man with arms the size of Muro's head, was holding him by the shirt.

"Hey, guys…come on, I'm not asking for trouble," Muro protested, trying not to get angry.

Two of them snickered. The third came towards him, a vicious looking object on his hand. It took Muro a moment to realize it was a glove worn by the TCTF armored team…gloves that had blades in them. "We're giving you trouble, kid. Empty your pockets." Muro obliged, but he didn't have any money with him. The burly man made a nasty sound in his throat, lifting Muro a little ways away from the wall, and then shoved him into it again. Muro smacked his head against the metal, and he yelped.

"Got nothing, pretty boy?" the third man asked again. The glove was close to his head now, Muro could feel the cold steel against his skin. "Well, then we can just carve your little face into something more…appropriate to our tastes."

"Put me down!" Muro yelled. "I won't tell you again."

They all began to laugh at him. "Ooh, little kid's sooooo scary," one of them said amidst laughs. "He's gonna kill us, guys," he said, and they all began to roar with laughter.

Muro glared at them, and swiftly put his boot between the eyes of the burly man, sending him straight into the street. The laughter was gone, and they all stared at the teenager who now landed gently on the ground. Weapons were taken out, and the three advanced on him as their friend picked himself up. One of them was taking out a shock gun, but the other two had old, standard weapons. The big guy had a thick chain, and the only other one had out a thick metal club that officers used to carry around until crime became too violent.

Muro's head swiftly went low as the chain narrowly missed his neck, and he ran towards the man. He grabbed him around the waist and shoved him towards the street, but then caught his chain and pulled him back. His fist made contact with the man's jaw, forcing him to let go of the chain. Muro whipped around, the chain now around his hand. He glared at them, using the chain like a metal whip to smack two of the others there.

The third, however, took the moment to sneak up behind the hooded man and fire off a shock blast directly into his back. Muro yelled as the electricity surged through his body, and he collapsed, his body giving a small spasm. Giving a groan, he began to stand, until a large boot pressed down into his back. "Shit…" he muttered.

"Who's the tough guy now, you little wimp?" the big guy asked. He grabbed Muro by the head and lifted him up, the man's body like a limp doll's. Muro struggled to get his body moving once more, but it just wouldn't.

_So…it's like being short-circuited…enh? _

_This is what it's like…to die?_

_But…I have so much left to do…_

He heard the sound of a blade coming out, and another sound that seemed far away. Tires, perhaps? He shut his eyes.

_Father…wherever you are…Save me…_

"Drop him, scum bag!" Three shots, and all three made Muro's body flinch. The hand on his head opened, and he dropped to the ground. He was being rolled over, and then his hoodie came up to expose his bare chest. (**AN: Topless Muro!**) A needle went in and he winced, until a surge of energy hit him. His eyes snapped open, pupils dilated. The word **Hypospray** met his eyes, and then the hand holding it. His eyes traveled upwards to a familiar face. It was like he was looking in a mirror…but he was female. A woman with purple hair and piercing emerald eyes was looking down at him.

"You alright?" she asked. He slowly nodded, and she helped him to his feet. The three men stood not far, practically freaking out over the burly man's lifeless body. Three perfect shots had hit him in the most vital areas – his groin, his forehead, and his chest. The chest shot must have just barely made it past Muro's body, and Muro was only thankful that she was a good shot. He looked towards her, and she barely noticed him as she took aim.

"You three best leave," she ordered. "I'm not in the mood."

One of them, the one with the shock gun, aimed at her, and she shot the gun out of his hand with a shot, and put two more bullets into his body. He dropped easily. Muro looked at her, and was surprised when he saw the steel in her eyes. It was the same look he had given the Syndicate leader several times before he eventually died. It was reassuring to see her look that way…maybe he wasn't so alone in this world.

"I said MOVE!" she yelled. "I've got two more clips, and I'm not afraid to put them all between your eyes!" The two didn't hesitate, and ran off into the night, leaving their dead companions. The woman pocketed her gun, pushing her hair back. "Damn cretins." She looked at Muro, as if for the first time, and looked sheepish. "Sorry…Uhm…are you alright? Were you injured?" she asked.

Muro shook his head. "The hypospray took care of my injuries." He tried to smile, looking at her gun. "You certainly know to keep yourself safe. Remind me not to get on your bad side."

The woman laughed, a melodious laugh that reminded Muro of a far off memory…He shook his head a bit, trying to concentrate on what she was saying now. "When you live with Griffin all your life, you don't worry about taking care of yourself."

"Griffin?" Muro asked, paling. Was this woman a TCTF operative? _Damn it…if she knows…I'm so screwed!_

The woman nodded. "I know, the guy's an asshole. He's constantly pushing and prying at me to be his little assistant."

"Do you work for the TCTF?" Muro asked, dreading the answer.

Again, the woman laughed. "Me? Work for the TCTF? Yeah, right!" She started to laugh again, but calmed down as she realized he was being serious. "Oh…no, I don't work as an operative. Griffin just has me file charts and shit because he doesn't want to get off his lazy rat-ass and do it himself." Muro laughed at this. "Griffin would NEVER want me to be an operative," she continued, a little sadly. "But I know I'm good enough to be one."

Muro looked at her, and realized just how alike they were with just that one thing in common. He always knew he could be the leader of the Syndicate…but without proper training or positive help, he was forced to rethink his goal. But here was a woman who understood what it was like to live with an absolute bastard all her life, and to be constantly pushed around by him.

"Hey," Muro said. "You'll get it. Give it time. I'm sure the scumbag will give you a chance."

The woman lost her smile. "Chance? Oh no, my training session! He's gonna murder me!"

Muro smiled. "Training session? This early in the morning? He must be insane."

The woman nodded. "I gotta run," she said, but gave him a wink that made him blush. "I hope to see you around some time!" she called, running to her bike. He followed her.

"How will I find you?" he called out. 

She started the motorcycle, revving the engine. "Listen…meet me at that restaurant at 10 this morning for coffee." She got a sly grin. "Be there, or I might put holes in you."

Muro grinned as she began to drive away. "WAIT!" he yelled. "What's your name!"

She looked back for a moment. "My name's Konoko!" she yelled back to him, before she and her motorcycle disappeared around a corner.

Muro watched her go, a smile spreading across his face. It was going to be a good day.


End file.
